Reckoning
by csiphile
Summary: Immediately after Rule 51, Tony and Ziva work through Somalia and other issues while away from the team. Slightly AU. TIVA.
1. Contagious

Title: Reckoning

Author: csiphile/redwing

Rating: I'm calling it T, but there is an M chapter later and will give fair warning so you can avoid it if you like.

Summary: Immediately following Rule 51, Tony and Ziva work through their issues while away from the team.

Disclaimer: Look, I clearly do not own the characters or show. First sign is you are reading this on a website and not seeing my name on your TV as a credited writer (though that would be pretty awesome).

Hello lovely readers! I am thrilled to be back with another multi-chapter fic for everyones fav duo, Tony and Ziva. Since I started this WELL before the premiere, it's officially AU, hope that doesn't bother anyone and beside, the plot is only there as background noise for Tony/Ziva to confront several issues in their working and personal relationship. I will hopefully be posting every few days here.

AN1: Each chapter title is a song title (from a song I think fits the chapters theme) and a sampling of the lyrics will be at the end. Play along and guess the artist – I have no treats except a shout out to the first to guess.

Reviews are appreciated and always welcome!

* * *

_Goodness shall be repaid with goodness, and evil repaid with evil; never fear; the day of reckoning will come soon. - Anonymous_

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* * *

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**Chapter One - Contagious**

The bullpen was fairly quiet when Ziva got in that morning; Gibbs and McGee both notably absent from their desks. Dropping her bag in its customary location she stared at the desk across from hers. It was empty as well. She let out an audible sigh and turned on the computer.

Tony had left for Mexico just over two days ago, taking a transport out the night before her ceremony. No one had heard from him directly since, though Ziva suspected Vance had been in contact, mostly because Gibbs seemed unconcerned about his Senior Agent's status.

After her ceremony she and McGee had been read in on the mission and how his return timeframe was unsure. That was shortly before Gibbs had arrived. He'd apologized profusely for missing her moment, wrapping her in a warm hug as he did so. The fact the man had apologized – and so adamantly – had told the newly-minted American all she needed to know to accept his apology. Though curiosity still made her wonder where her father figure had been, she knew better than to ask.

Scanning through her email, Ziva let her mind wander to Tony once more. It seemed they were never in the right place at the right time. The obstacles that kept them apart were starting to wander into absurdity. The undercover assignment to catch an arms dealer, the disbandment of their team to catch a mole, the man she met and foolishly trusted while back in Israel, Somalia, and now Mexico. Not to mention Rule 12, which they spouted to people and each other at increasingly frequent intervals. Sometimes she thought they used barriers like these – especially Rule 12 – more as excuses for staying apart rather than as legitimate reasons for things not going forward. Ziva knew they were both terrified of what would happen if they ever actually acted on their feelings; both convinced that "happily ever after" was only for movies.

Now at least she had the comfort of being a citizen, not having to worry about being recalled to her home country at any time by a bitter father. She knew Tony's disbelief at her citizenship was a show of sorts, and that he was excited for her to finally get out from under the presence of Eli. Renouncing her ties to Israel had been difficult, but she knew that in order be free from her past, her country would have to become an innocent bystander.

_Former country, _her mind reminded her. She was an American now.

A small smile graced her lips at that as movement from the catwalk above caught her attention. She slowly lifted her head, and her heart stopped.

He was back.

Tony was engaged in conversation with Gibbs and Vance, but as soon as that was done, he looked down at her. Green met chocolate. They held the gaze for several moments until Gibbs' movement towards the stairs pulled Tony's eyes from hers. He followed their boss down into the bullpen.

As Tony eased back into his chair, she smiled gently at him. "Nice of you to show up."

He gave her a crooked smile, but in his eyes she could see the apology for missing her ceremony. "I try."

She snorted indelicately, but gave him a meaningful glance of acceptance before looking back down.

"Ziv…" he started, but he was cut off by Gibbs barking that Vance expected his report before end of day, so he'd better get cracking.

"No problem Boss," he replied, and he turned to his computer without giving Ziva another glance.

The only interruption the remainder of the morning was McGee returning from the lab and welcoming Tony back from his "vacation." Tony had mumbled something back that it was definitely NOT a vacation.

Lunch was ordered, eaten, and long gone by the time they paused again. Tony was finishing his report as McGee and Ziva completed paperwork on the case they'd just completed. It was wrapped up in just over a day's time (the suspect had confessed easily) while he was still away.

The senior agent made a show of stretching in his chair, complete with an annoying noise that earned him a look from McGee.

"Hitting the head," he announced loudly, giving Ziva a pointed look.

Several minutes later the former Israeli wordlessly got out of her chair and made her way to the men's room. While they had talked several times in the bathroom, this was the first time one of them had instigated the action, as opposed to their usual MO of barging in on one another. So this time when she walked in he was just standing against the counter, arms crossed. Assuming the room was clear she turned, locked the door, and then approached her partner.

With a smirk he said, "Took you long enough."

"Well, I did not want it to be obvious."

He rolled his eyes. "The men's room is to us what the elevator is to Gibbs. I doubt anyone notices or cares anymore."

Shrugging her acceptance of his words, silence reigned for several seconds as they stared at each other before he broke the silence.

"I'm sorry I missed your ceremony."

She shook her head. "You do not need to apologize; Vance filled us in on your mission."

"I do need to apologize. I promised I would be there…"

Taking a step towards him, she invaded his personal space – if there even was such a thing with them - and placed a hand on his chest. "Tony…if anyone understands orders, it is me."

"I still feel bad."

A head shake then said, "Do not feel bad."

He smiled at her, but not his usual goofy grin. This one had a hint of seriousness behind it. "I got something for you, something to commemorate your newly-American status."

Curiosity covered her face as he dug a small, white jewelry box from his back pocket. He watched her expression change to something indefinable as he handed the white box to her.

Taking the item she spared him a glance before slowly opening it. The second she saw it tears threatened her eyes even as a smile graced her face.

Set in the box was a small gold necklace, the center of which was an American flag just about the same size as her Star of David. Carefully she picked up the necklace and investigated further. The stripes were made of small diamonds and rubies, and the area where the stars would be was four small sapphires making the shape of a square.

"Tony," she breathed, touching the flag almost reverently before speaking again, her voice small and cracking. "You should not have done this."

"Yes, I should have. After everything we have been through the last year, it was actually the _least_ I could do," he said with a small smile, taking the necklace from her and indicating for her to turn so he could put it on. She complied, moving her ponytail out of the way. Gently he placed the gold chain around her neck and closed the clasp, reveling in the feel of her warm skin under his fingers. It had been so long since he had touched her, even in passing. Sure they had shared a room, and bed, in Paris, but both were careful to keep everything professional and their proximity at arm's length. So he allowed his fingertips to remain on her neck longer then he would have normally. Brushing across the hairs at the nape of her neck, he could almost feel the electricity between them increasing with each stroke.

Involuntarily her eyes flittered closed as he lingered at the back of her neck, and suddenly the air in the room felt heavy. Every one of her nerve endings seemed to be on alert, responding to his touch. And suddenly she realized this was the first time a man had touched her in a way that could be considered intimate since Michael.

For some reason that made her emotional, because it seemed so…right that it would be Tony.

Suddenly his fingers were gone. She took a moment to compose herself, looking in the mirror and noting that the chain on the necklace was long enough that it lay slightly below her star. Touching it again on her skin, she decided that she would not remove it.

Facing him, her face became serious. "It is beautiful, thank you Tony." With that she placed one hand on his cheek and leaned in, giving him a kiss on the opposite cheek – much the same way she had done nearly ten months ago. This time, though, her kiss was closer to his lips, and when she pulled back, she left mere inches between their lips, their breaths mingling.

Tony opened his mouth to say something, but his brain short circuited at her nearness. Instead he slowly closed the gap between them, his lips just brushing hers…

"TONY!" McGee's voice from the other side of the bathroom door kept them from getting any farther.

They pulled apart and Tony looked at her frustrated, they had come so close. But perhaps McGee's interruption was a good thing. He now realized that making out with his partner in the bathroom at NCIS was probably not advisable. A small smile tugged at her lips, she had clearly been thinking the same thing.

When they didn't respond, McGee's voice became tenser. He banged on the door sharply and now added her name to his call. "Tony, Ziva!"

"Jeez, McGee…" Tony hissed under his breath as he walked to the door, speaking as he unlocked and opened it. "Where's the …" The look on the younger agents face told Tony something unspeakably bad had happened. He was practically white as a ghost. Tony's tone changed instantly to serious as Ziva appeared next to him. "What happened?"

McGee spared a glance at Ziva's neck, but he said nothing. "It's Gibbs' dad…"

tbc…

_I was sick of restriction, sick of the boundaries, about to close the door_

_Such a lack of conviction, no real connection, what should I settle for_

_But you caught my attention, you built on the tension_

_You left me wanting more_

_Now I don't know what to do with myself, do with myself_

_I don't want nobody else_

_I let you in, I let you in and you infected me_

_Cant get enough of you, cant get enough of you_

_I breathe you in, I breathe you in and now Im in too deep_

_Don't think Im pullin through, don't think Im pulling through_

_Cant get enough of you, cant get enough of me_


	2. Diamond Eyes

THANK YOU for all the lovely reviews and alerts, readers. Keep em coming! This chapter is sorta filler, but necessary filler that I hope you at least enjoy! -Red

_I'm on the front line, don't worry I'll be fine  
the story is just beginning  
I say goodbye to my weakness, so long to the regret  
__and now I know that I'm alive_

_I'm on the front line, don't worry I'll be fine  
the story is just beginning  
I say goodbye to my weakness, so long to the regret  
and now I see the world through diamond eyes_

Diamond Eyes, Shinedown

**Chapter Two: Diamond Eyes**

"What about him?" Tony asked tersely.

"He's at the hospital. Shot in his store and, as of now, he is listed as critical."

"Who?" and "When?" came simultaneously from the pair as they followed McGee back to the bullpen.

"Happened late last night. Gibbs flew out of here after he got the call and Vance wants to see us in ten."

Tony pinned McGee with a glare. "Who, Tim." It wasn't a question it was a demand.

McGee glared back. "I think we all know. A Hispanic woman in her thirties was seen entering, but not exiting."

"Reynosa…" Tony mumbled and looked up at Vance's office. "Let's go…"

As they entered the director's office, they saw that the older man was on the phone. Mostly, he was nodding and reassuring whoever was on the other end. Quickly, he wrapped up the conversation and motioned for the three to stand at his desk.

"DiNozzo, David, I assume McGee filled you in?"

"Yes," Ziva responded.

"That was Gibbs," he said and paused. "It does not look good for Jackson. Point blank to the chest. From what the locals have told me, it appears he put up a struggle."

"We need to get to Pennsylvania," Tony said, but before the words were fully out the director was shaking his head "no".

"There is nothing for us to investigate there. The locals LEOs can take care of it. Besides, I think we all know who is responsible, and she is no longer in the country."

Tony's frustration took over, and he snapped, "Then what are we supposed to do? Sit on our hands?"

Ziva's voice stopped his tirade. "Tony…"

Vance's strong voice cut them both off. "There is nothing we can do _officially_." Tony noted the emphasis on 'officially' and watched as the Director idly flipped through two personnel files before speaking again. "I do see that both you and Agent David have extensive vacation time save up. Nearly five weeks each. I think with Agent Gibbs out of the office for an indefinite period, now would be a good time for you to use some."

Tony opened his mouth to protest, but Vance raised one hand to stop him. "I hear _Mexico _is nice this time of year. Maybe you should take a trip, enjoy the local cuisine, maybe _observe the locals._"

A small smirk crossed Tony's face. "I see. I think that sounds lovely, don't you, Agent David?"

Ziva nodded the affirmative. Following the underlying conversation had been easy. "I do."

"It's decided then. McGee you can stay here and help me. You two should probably talk to Abby in about an hour; she could probably make some suggestions. Check in with me before you leave."

"Yes, sir," they responded in unison and, with McGee on their heels, left the office. They paused outside on the catwalk.

The youngest agent looked confused. "Did he just tell you guys…?"

"Yep," Tony responded.

"Together…"

"Yes, McGee." Ziva's voice was tense.

"Your job, Probie, is to let us know the SECOND anything changes with Gibbs' Dad. And I don't care if it's 3 am."

McGee nodded in the affirmative and left the two standing outside the director's office staring into the bullpen at their boss' empty desk. A comfortable silence reigned for several minutes before Ziva spoke.

"We will not allow her to get away with this."

A small nod then, "Agreed."

* * *

Walking into the lab on a normal day usually meant loud music and a very happy goth. Today however, the music was off entirely, and Abby was sitting quietly at her desk in the back office staring at some papers strewn on the desk.

As they approached neither was sure what to say. Thankfully, Abby solved their dilemma by standing when she noticed them and enveloping each in a long hug.

"He's gonna be ok, Abs. Jackson's a fighter," Tony managed to get out as she squeezed him.

"I know…I hope so. What I wouldn't do to go down there and make that bitch disappear into nothing…"

"We will take care of it." Ziva's voice was authoritative and sure, and somehow it soothed the lab tech. Probably because Abby knew Ziva was her word.

Abby gathered the papers from her desk and handed over a manila folder. "She threatened all of us, so be careful. But sometimes the best hiding spots are in plain sight, especially at a couples resort." She gave them a knowing look that both agents ignored, though Abby was sure a small smile graced Tony's face for a second. "Room is listed under Z. David…"

"That's not obvious?" Tony asked.

Abby looked hurt. "Less obvious then say…DiNozzo."

His partner sighed loudly. "Tony, David," she intentionally pronounced it like the first name, "is a common _American_ last name."

"Right!" Abby added. "And you are taking the next C130 down..."

"Ugggghhh…" Tony groaned. "I just got OFF a C130…again. Can't we do commercial?"

"No. Two reasons. One, this way there are no commercial flight records. Two…well, Ziva's passport is sorta a problem…actually it's her lack of an American passport that's the problem." The other woman nodded, but Tony looked confused. "She's only been an American for…two days, Tony. She doesn't have a valid passport. Even I can't make one appear out of thin air in an hours time. Plus," Abby brightened. "You can take your weapons on the 130! Oh! And Gibbs was able to contact Franks somehow… He will be observing that weasel Hernandez. You two are to stay on Reynosa."

"Thanks Abs," Ziva said, collecting the paperwork.

Tony echoed her thanks.

"Remember!" Abby called out behind them. "Vance said observe and report, that's all. Don't…do anything stupid."

Tony responded in the affirmative, but all Ziva did was give her an indescribable look.

Abby wasn't sure if she was reassured or not.

* * *

After checking in with Vance and being directed again to observe and report – clearly they all knew what the former assassin was thinking – they each headed home and packed quickly. They needed to be at the airfield by 8:30 to catch the flight.

Ziva packed her clothes quickly, but she paused as she unloaded her sig for the flight, placing it in a black backpack. Turning to her closet, she opened her gun safe and retrieved two more hand guns and enough ammo for both. She didn't anticipate needing them but would rather be prepared.

She had not lied to Tony; Paloma Reynosa would not get away with attempting to murder Jackson. Gibbs was the closest thing she had to a father these days, so an attack on him was an attack on her. She didn't take kindly to people hurting those she loved. Besides, after what the older man had done for her in Somalia, the least she could do was provide some retribution.

Placing the weapons at the bottom of the bag, she tested its weight to confirm she could carry it comfortably. Satisfied, she finished grabbing her few essentials – including her laptop – and headed to the airfield to meet Tony.

Predictably, he showed up just as her watch turned to 8:30, leaving no room for error. He also carried two bags: a large duffle with clothes and a smaller backpack. She smirked at him as they boarded. Taking up similar spots to the ones they had occupied when they returned from Mexico not so long ago; seated close together, sharing an itchy – though warm – blanket. Only this time Ziva rested her head on Tony's shoulder as they dozed through the trip.

The resort wasn't much to look at from the outside, but once they entered the lobby, luxury oozed from every surface – from the marble counters and floors to the gold fixtures.

Entering their room at close to midnight local time, nearly 4 a.m. in DC, the exhausted pair perked up at the arrangements. They had managed to finagle a corner room which came complete with floor to ceiling windows on one wall and sliding doors that faced the ocean. A large king bed faced the doors, with a small couch and TV set up between it and the windows. An opulent bathroom was located just as they walked in the door. It was separated from the bedroom by a wall complete with floor-to-ceiling opaque glass panes.

Despite the sumptuousness of the room, both were drawn to the ocean. They dropped their bags in the small living room and opened the doors onto the small but nicely appointed balcony.

As they stepped outside, Ziva closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let the breeze and ocean waves take her to a state more relaxed than the tense one she had been in since McGee told them the news.

Tony watched her as her eyes drifted closed, a look of peace gracing her face, one that had been missing from her features for a long while. Suddenly he realized how much last year had actually changed them, and how much of the old Ziva was still missing.

She let out a long sigh and opened her eyes, the tiredness from being up nearly 24 hours finally winning. "I am going to change and head to bed."

"Yeah," Tony responded with regret in his voice. He would have been happy to stand there all night with her. Turning he got a mischievous grin on his face. "Flip for the bed?"

She rolled her eyes and picked up her bag. "Do not be an idiot, Tony." With that she closed the bathroom door and started undressing. It was then that Tony realized the opaque glass did not provide as much privacy as one would think. He could clearly see the outline of her body as she pulled the cotton tee over her head and tossed it to the floor, some of her more feminine features outlined to perfection.

Until now it didn't occur to him how difficult it was going to be to share a hotel room with her for two weeks. Much less a room designed with a couple in mind.

Slipping off all his clothes except his boxers and a tank top, he slid into the bed – right side of course – as she opened the door in her pajamas, which consisted of a pair of cotton shorts and tank top, her hair braided neatly.

She eyed him warily at first, but slid into the large bed, careful to stay firmly on her side. Based on the urge that was running through her body to move closer to him, this assignment was going to be much harder than she anticipated. Now Ziva fully understood how Gibbs and Jenny happened in Paris so long ago and where Rule 12 came from.

The light switched off and Tony's voice came through the dark.

"Night, Ziva.

"Goodnight Tony," she responded and closed her eyes, allowing sleep to wash over her.

_As Microsoft Word as my witness, I had written the passport section MONTHS ago. I just find it hilarious that it came up on the show this week. Anyway, don't forget to review on the way out._


	3. All or Nothing

This one came out WAY longer than I anticipated, but I just couldn't find a better place to break it. Enjoy! -Red

_Looking at all or nothing, babe, its you and I_

_With you, I know that I'm good for something lets go give it a try_

_We've got our backs against the ocean its just us against the world_

_Looking at all or nothing, babe, its you and I_

_This is it, nothing to hide, one more kiss, never say goodbye_

_This is it, baby you're all mine_

All or Nothing, Theory of a Deadman

CHAPTER THREE: All or Nothing

Thankfully her body's alarm had not gone off at its accustomed 5 am hour, instead allowing her to sleep until sinfully late (for her). Opening her eyes, Ziva was surprised to find that she and Tony had moved closer to each other during the night. They weren't actually touching, but their faces were mere inches apart, his warm breath was caressing her cheek as he continued to sleep.

She allowed herself a moment to look at him. Had it been 5 years already since they had met after Kate's death? So much had happened between them in that time. Had it been just last year that she had doubted his motives toward her, doubted him so much that she requested not to work with him anymore?

_Yeah, how well did that work out, _her mind asked as her hand covered her abdomen, above where the worst of the scars crossed her body; her back, stomach and upper thighs had taken the worst beatings. The physical scars were mostly faded and gone, but the emotional ones would take more time.

She allowed one hand to drift over his cheek, not quite touching the stubble that had started.

"_Mi salvador_," she muttered and got out of bed quietly, grabbing her suitcase and heading into the bathroom. Riding in the back of a C130 wasn't exactly clean and she had been too tired to shower the night before. Closing the door, she regarded the ridiculously huge shower for two, and for just an instant a wholly inappropriate thought regarding her partner, herself and that shower took hold. Shaking her head she stripped down, turned on the faucet and stepped into the steaming water.

Spanish had never been his strongest foreign language, but he knew that Ziva had just called him her savior; he wasn't sure how he felt about that. The rescue part of their mission was wholly unplanned; they had been on a mission of revenge. Stretching slowly on the comfortable bed Tony looked at the clock…9 am, a late hour for him to be rising, even after a late night.

Glancing over his shoulder into the bathroom he could see his partner moving in the shower – he really should let her know about the lack of real privacy in the bathroom…

A cell phone ringing broke his concentration and he quickly realized it was his. After a fuzzy moment he realized he had left the phone on one of the couches as they came in last night. Moving swiftly he scampered over to the living area and snatched up the phone without looking at the ID.

"DiNozzo."

"Tony…" Gibbs' voice was tired, distraught even.

"Boss…how's Jackson?" He asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

The long pause before the answer told the younger man all he needed to know. "Not good, Tony. She nicked some arteries; he is in surgery again this morning."

Now he ran a hand through his spiky hair, unsure what to say. "I'm sorry, Boss."

Again, silence before a response. "Thanks, Tony. Vance told me where you are. Listen to me DiNozzo, you do exactly what the director told you to do, nothing more. Stay the hell off this woman's radar. She has caused enough damage; I don't want anything happening to you or Ziva."

Tony chuckled slightly. "You might want to tell that to Ziva, she had her assassin face on—"

"I'm tellin' _you_ DiNozzo: follow orders. And watch each other's back."

"Yes, boss."

Another long pause, enough that Tony was starting a 'goodbye' when the other man spoke again. "Rule fifty one, Tony."

Tony searched his mental Gibbs file of rules, but was at a loss. "Fifty one? Boss?"

"Sometimes you're wrong."

"Huh?" he questioned, was he seriously saying...?

"Life is too short, Tony…to let things linger."

Apparently he was.

Immediately Tony started rambling. "Nothing is going on Boss. Between me and Ziva that is. Not that anything would now, she my partner…Rule twelve…"

"Tony!" Gibbs sharp voice cut him off, while his two agents were not technically dating, they were about as close as two people could be without committing to each other. Rule Twelve was just a formality, the reason it existed had already passed these two by; their working relationship could fare no worse. "Rule fifty one and I don't want to know. That's all I'm gonna say."

"Got it boss." Now he paused. "Want to talk to Ziva? She might take the 'leave her alone' command better from you."

A small chuckle came across the line. "No, I think I'll let you handle it."

"Okay. Let us know how he is doing."

"I will," he said and the call ended.

Tony closed his phone and said a "bye" into air.

As he snapped the phone shut Ziva appeared from the bathroom, looking appropriately touristy in white cotton pants and a turquoise tank top, her still damp hair loose and curly. For a moment he froze. Their boss had given him permission to break Rule Twelve, the last mental barrier they had against the feelings for each other. Tony felt lost, his mind swirling with possibilities and a little bit of abject terror.

"Who was that?" she asked as she dried her hair with a towel.

"Oh, uh, Gibbs."

She looked at him surprised. "And? How is Jackson?"

"He was in surgery again, it doesn't look good."

Something dark and dangerous flitted across her face before she spoke. "What else did he say?"

Now he moved toward the bathroom, picking up his bag as he went. "Tell you later." If she responded he didn't hear her.

They quickly ate breakfast at the resort before taking the car for a ride. The Reynosa compound was deep into the desert and heavily guarded. They were forced to drive in what Tony deemed was endless circles for thirty minutes before finding a location that would allow them to watch the comings and goings of their target and stay hidden and somewhat out of the Mexican heat. It was June after all; hitting temperatures in the low 100s was not unheard of. Their perch was a large bluff that loomed over the compound, far enough away they wouldn't be spotted if they were careful, with trees dotting the landscape, allowing for more protection and shade.

After settling in, Ziva laid flat on her stomach on a towel she had snagged from the hotel and used binoculars, a pen and paper to record what she saw. Security movements, shift swaps, any pattern at all to Reynosa's actions, even sketching the house. The property was much larger then she anticipated: one large main house with expansive gardens and an in-ground pool, plus several smaller out buildings, the two largest of those looked like horse barns.

Tony sat up against a tree next to her, using his binoculars to do the same. They would compare notes later. As the hours wore on he became bored with the lack of action—Paloma seemed to enjoy spending the days by her pool with a drink—and his focus turned to his partner. She had barely moved in three hours except to drink water.

He wasn't sure how she did it to be honest. He knew she hated stakeouts; they were the most boring of all the investigative necessities.

"So…about the cowboy…" he started.

He had observed one man coming and going frequently, dressed in expensive cowboy boots and hat.

"I have noticed him also. He appears to be her runner," she stated without turning to him. "I think we should follow him tomorrow."

A grunt of agreement came from him and another two hours passed in silence.

"Okay, I think we can say we got enough intel for today. Can we go back now? I swear I don't know how you can lay like that for hours; my back is protesting already."

Now she turned to him slowly, a smirk on her face. "Yoga, Tony, you should try it. Strengthen those muscles."

Tony stretched and smiled back. "Are you offering to teach me?"

Sitting up she leaned into him, dangerously close. "Maybe if you behave."

The Tony DiNozzo seductive smile came out. "Oh, I can behave if I need to."

"Yes…" she drew out before continuing. "We can go."

Quickly they packed up their things and returned to the resort, each sticky from sweating in the Mexican sun, and hungry. Tony quickly showered first as Ziva emailed Vance their report for the day and intentions for tomorrow.

Looking at her watch Ziva snorted, he had been in there 30 minutes already. She knew women who did not take that long — herself included.

"Tony!" she yelled from the other side of the opaque door. "Will you hurry up? I am hungry enough to eat a cow."

"Horse," his voice came through the door.

"What?"

"The term is hungry enough to eat a horse…"

"Why would I eat a horse? Meat comes from cows, yes?"

Suddenly the door opened and Tony stared at her. "Technically yes, but the point is…you know, nevermind. All yours." With that he waved his hand into the bathroom but did not move much from the doorway.

She eyed him but slid by in the small space, their bodies just touching. As she stepped past him, he gently grabbed her upper arm, leaning into her.

"Next time we could save time and resources and just share the shower."

Pursing her lips she moved closer still, putting their faces inches apart. "In your dreams." With that she fully stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, forcing him into the bedroom.

"Oh, you have no idea," he whispered to himself.

After a minor disagreement they finally decided on the Italian restaurant by the beach for dinner. Both had dressed casually; he, khaki shorts and a blue polo; she, khakis and a flowing tunic.

As they waited for their meals, silence reigned as they looked out the windows at the ocean.

"Beautiful resort so far, huh?" Tony finally said and took a drink of his beer. He had decided that one drink would be fine, to keep up appearance—and because he really needed one. She had done the same; a glass of red wine sat in front of her, untouched though.

She turned to him. "Yes, it is."

"To bad we're working."

For a moment Ziva stared at him, unsure what the implication was but before she could answer the waiter returned with their dinners.

The meal was eaten in mostly silence, only the occasional "this is really good" coming from Tony. In no time both had finished and Tony gave the beach another glance. The sun had all but gone down, but the resort had "nightly entertainment" that kept the beach lively until well into the night.

Downing the last of the beer Tony tilted his head to the water. "Walk? I could sure use one after that meal."

She smiled. "Sure."

Walking out of the restaurant and onto the beach, Tony started guiding them toward the people and noise.

"No," she said quietly and led them in the other direction, toward the waters edge. As they approached she removed her sandals and held them in one hand and stepped into the ocean, just allowing the water to lap at her ankles. Shrugging, he followed suit and stood next to her in the water.

Without a word he slipped his free hand into hers, gently holding her hand; instead of pulling away as he expected her to instead she looked at him and smiled before turning back to look out onto the expanse of water.

Eventually he tugged her hand gently and they continued walking in the surf away from the people. They strolled in silence for several minutes before coming to a pier that jutted out into the ocean. Walking out onto the wood, they continued to the end, sitting on the edge, allowing their feet to dangle down toward the water. Tony sat right next to her, their shoulders just touching as they sat quietly for a while.

"I meant to tell you, Damon called me last week…"

"Werth?" Tony practically spat out.

She rolled her eyes, but continued. "Yes, do you know another? One of your contacts was able to come through for him and get him a job; he is staying with his friend's family to help them out. Thank you." The words were heartfelt, Tony could sense it.

"You're welcome; glad to help."

"No, you were not…" Her tone was lighter then the words. "You just wanted Damon not to return to DC, yes?"

He said nothing.

"It was obvious, Tony, that you wanted him to leave so we would no longer have contact with each other."

Now he flinched and gave a denial a lame attempt. "I didn't want that."

She laughed. "Yes, you did. Jealousy, Tony, does not look good on you."

"Okay, fine. So what if I didn't want him around? Didn't like the guy."

"You did not know him!"

"And you did?"

She shrugged. "I think so."

Now he was intrigued. "How well?"

Leaning into him, she whispered. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Jealously flared and tainted his words. "Yeah, I would."

For some reason she felt compelled to answer. She didn't want Damon Werth hanging over their relationship forever. "I did not sleep with him."

Tony looked visibly relieved but said nothing. It was really none of his business what she had done with Damon, but for some reason it bothered Tony to the core wondering if she had had sex with the ex-marine. Instantly he realized the hypocrisy in his thinking; Tony continued to hit on women—though notably less then he used to—and had several one night stands since she returned, but expected her not to do the same. Man, he was an ass sometimes. The woman sitting next to him was what he wanted, what he had wanted for longer than he could remember anymore, and yet he continued to pursue others in some ridiculous attempt to—what? Fill a void he knew perfectly well only his partner could? But until those magic words came from Gibbs lips, he had fought it with all his might. Their working relationship was important to him—she was the best partner he'd had—but a relationship of a more personal nature could lead to so much more.

Before he could think too hard about it, Tony looked at her—she was looking at the stars—and called her name softly. Once she had turned to him he placed on hand at the back of her neck and pulled her to him, completing the kiss they had started in the bathroom the day before.

As his lips touched hers, a spark ignited between them, his hand moved through her curls, hers gripping onto the lapel of his Hawaiian shirt.

Finally she pulled away breathless. "Tony, we cannot do this…"

"Rule 51," he mumbled into her neck as his lips trailed down the sensitive skin.

Now she pushed him away from her. "What?"

"Rule 51: sometimes you're wrong."

She looked confused. "You are making that up."

"No, I'm not," he protested but she continued to glare at him. "I swear, I'm not. That's what Gibbs said on the phone earlier."

It was her turn to look shocked. "He is giving us permission…?"

"Yep," he answered and moved toward her again, capturing her lips, this time more persistent.

Despite her body screaming to let him touch her, she moved away; mental barriers still existed for her when it came to being intimate with someone. An unseen scar of her time in the desert. She could not admit it that now though. "Still, we are on a mission Tony, we cannot afford to become…distracted."

He moaned loudly in displeasure and acceptance of her words. Were they _ever_ going to find the right moment? He was beginning to doubt it. "I think the universe hates us."

She smiled slightly and leaned into him, placing her head on his shoulder. "The universe does not hate us, Tony. I think we just need to be more patient. Our time will come."

_It better. _He thought.

Tbc…

_Please feel free to review on the way out. Thanks!_


	4. Colors

Thank you for the reviews and alerts! They are always appreciated and feel free to continue, they do fuel the writers soul…

_Can you feel it crush you, does it seem to bring the worst in you out  
__There's no running away from these things that hold you down  
__Do they complicate you, because they make you feel like this  
__Of all the colors that you've shined, this is surely not your best_

_But you should know these colors that you're shining are  
__Surely not the best, colors that you've shined  
__Surely not the best, colors that you've shined  
_Colors, Crossfade

CHAPTER FOUR: COLORS

When he woke the next morning, Tony was not surprised to find Ziva curled up in front of him, her back just touching his chest. Looking down at her a wave of emotion hit him. This time last year they realized she was missing, and shortly after that believed she was dead. Tony had been nothing short of a mess after Gibbs had told them the Damocles went down with no survivors. Time had no meaning, the days had passed in a blur, even now he struggled to remember the specifics; he just remembered the intense pain and grief. And then rage at the man he blamed for her "death."

Gently he reached out and touched her hair, almost reassuring himself she was still indeed there and not a figment. As his fingers stroked the loose locks she mumbled in her sleep and shifted down, allowing the tank she wore to bed to slide farther up her side. Looking down he was tempted to pull the fabric back down, but then a pink line caught his attention.

Tony knew under her clothes she bore some physical scars of her time in Somalia. But for some reason actually seeing one was like a punch to the gut. Moving away from her in the bed, he looked at her back, which was almost completely exposed to him.

Across her tan skin were crisscrossing lines of pink and white scars, in varying lengths and widths. All in assorted stages of fading— most barely visible, but to him they stood out like an accusation. Tony conjured up a visual of some terrorist standing over Ziva as she lay helpless on the floor, a whip in one hand, demanding answers he knew would not come. He could almost smell the blood as the leather bit into her skin, hear her quiet screams—because he knew she would try and stay silent—feel the pain of it all.

She had never spoken of what happened, not one word, but Tony knew his visuals were nothing close to the real thing. Tony may play dumb, but he wasn't an idiot. Thirty men, one woman. He knew. When McGee had asked her what she would have done in place of Kaylen Burrows, Tony knew the answer was wishful thinking on her part; what she would have liked to have done to her captors. What she would have done given the opportunity.

She moved again, now lying flat on her stomach, exposing a scar on her back, near her left hip that had clearly been more than just a superficial wound, the edges were more ragged then the others. It was easily two inches long, a quarter inch wide and still very pink. His brain could come up with nothing short of a knife—a big freaking knife at that—that would make a mark like that. Tilting his head he absently moved closer to her. For some reason this scar disturbed him more than the others, probably because the visual that accompanied this was far more terrifying. This time he pictured her fighting back, and this time Saleem retaliating by thrusting his knife deep into her back, blood pouring from the wound.

_Jesus, what else had they done to her?_

Knowing she wouldn't talk about it made him crazy. As far as Tony was aware, she had done her mandatory sessions to be reinstated, but had not gone back after that. It concerned him that she was holding all that inside her. It wasn't good for anyone, not even a trained assassin.

Seeming of it's own volition, his hand reached out and he lightly touched the scar at her hip, his fingers just grazing the skin. It didn't seem like a second before her hand swatted at his and she sat up in bed, staring at him with fire in her eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"I…" he wasn't sure what to say exactly.

She looked furious. "Enjoying the show?"

"NO! Ziva, no."

"That is none of your business."

He was stunned. "Not my business?"

"No."

Instead of taking a minute to think, Tony snapped back, taking his anger out on her since he couldn't at the person he wanted to. Ulman.

"Are you serious? I went halfway around the world to avenge what I thought was your death. I was prepared to _die _so that psycho could understand you meant something to someone. That you weren't just some nameless operative sent on a suicide mission. So _your_ death would not have been pointless. It's my business because you are my partner and I worry about you and because it was me that pulled you out of that shithole."

Her eyes narrowed at him and she got out of bed, standing at the edge. "We have discussed this before, Tony. There is nothing to talk about."

"Nothing to talk about? You spent three months as a captive of a terrorist. I think there is plenty to talk about." His voice softened, "Don't shut me out, Ziva."

Hands waved in front of her face. "I am dealing with it."

"Alone?" he asked softly and crawled across the bed, getting out on her side so he was in front of her.

"Yes, Tony, alone; as I have always done."

"But you don't have to do this alone, Ziva."

She looked at him exasperated; he had this annoying way of needling the truth out of her. "It has been over a year Tony, do you not think I have dealt with it?"

"If by deal you mean never talk about it then, um, yeah…still no."

Finally she snapped, frustrated with him and sure once she started speaking he would immediately back down from hearing the horrors she endured. "Do you really want to me to confide in you Tony? Really? Do you want to hear about how they abused me in more ways than one? That Saleem let his men…" she stopped the thought, still unable to say the words aloud, instead turning to point at the scar that started all this. "And this? _He _wanted me to do something…that I did not want to do. I resisted, he became angry and he stabbed me. Had one of his so-called medics stitch me up so he could continue to use me. That was about a week before you came."

He stared at her a long minute before speaking. "Ziva…I," but before he could finish she interrupted him by moving to the dresser and pulling out clothes.

"I will be out of the shower in 20 minutes." With that she stalked to the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

He followed her, standing on the other side of the closed door, one hand wavering over the glass as he heard the sobs come from his partner and his heart broke. Ziva David did not cry.

"I'm sorry, Ziva. I'm so sorry…" he whispered to no one and turned away from the door.

After closing the door she placed her clothes on the counter and sat on the toilet with her head in her hands, crying. There was a certain amount of relief now that she had admitted—even if it was a highly sanitized version—part of what they had done to her. No matter how hard she tried to forget, her time in Somalia would not leave her. The nightmares rarely came anymore, thankfully, but when they did it was ten times worse.

She had changed, more than she was willing to admit most days.

No longer quick with a retort about her assassin background or her ability to kill without thinking. When she had told the Air Marshall about killing someone with a credit card she almost choked on the words, they felt…odd to say, she was clearly not proud of her actions. After being on the receiving end of torture and realizing what her father had raised her to be, Ziva was not at all happy with how her life had turned out. Absently she touched the flag at her neck; she now had a chance to change all that, a new life, and someone willing to be there for her. Depending on someone, however, was not something she was programmed to do.

Yet. Tony made her comfortable in a way she hadn't been in a long time; she could depend on him, trust him with her life. And eventually she would trust him with this.

* * *

After they had both showered, breakfast was eaten in tense silence, the first words spoken were agreement to start their morning at the compound then follow the cowboy on his errands.

It wasn't long after they settled in that their target arrived, had a conversation with Reynosa and left. Quickly they got back in the rental – a convertible Mustang of course – and followed the cowboy into a neighboring city – not as large as the one their resort was in, but large enough that a couple on vacation wouldn't look out of place. Vendors lined the streets at various intervals with business and homes behind them. The cowboy parked on the street and started walking slowly through the street vendors, calling several by name.

They parked several blocks behind him and got out, following him from across the street. The tension from that morning was still between them, mentally and physically. She wouldn't stand next to him and had barely spoken in the car. Finally Tony sighed and took her hand in his – pulling her closer - placing his lips near her ear.

"We should at least pretend that we like each other."

"Tony, I…"

He shook his head, silencing her. "Not now."

She nodded, smiled and gripped his hand harder.

For several blocks they followed him, and for several blocks he did nothing but hit on women, most of whom seemed to appreciate the attention sent their way.

Finally they strolled past him as he stopped at a food stall. Tony turned to Ziva and smiled.

Wiggling his cell at her he called out, "Photo op?"

"Sure," she said and positioned herself to the side of the cowboy, giving Tony clear shot of the target.

"Perfect," he finally said and quickly emailed the photo to Abby, asking for an ID.

As he stood next to her the cowboy slipped between two stalls and disappeared into a narrow alley. Quickly they followed, maintaining a safe distance until he walked in the back door of a row house, closing the door behind him.

"What's the address here?" Tony asked Ziva and she quickly rolled off a series of numbers and names. With his phone in front of him - text open and ready - he paused and looked at her lost. "What was that again?"

She snatched the phone out of his hands with a "give it to me" and typed in the address, sending that as well off to the scientist.

That done, Tony took in the house. It was a non-descript (the same as every other house on the block) two-story, beige stucco on the outside with a clay color tile roof.

"Well, now what?" Tony asked.

"I do not believe we should stand here in an alley and make a target of ourselves. Back to the street."

"Yeah, okay." He agreed, but took in one longer look of the building. Enough time that as they started back toward the street, the back door opened and the cowboy stepped out, his attention instantly on the out of place couple. He was instantly suspicious.

Tony did not turn back even though he had heard the door open and footsteps start their way. He knew they were busted.

tbc….


	5. Shed Some Light

Greatest apologies readers, the holiday caught up to me and then I realized I hadn't updated this chapter. Hopefully it will be worth it and I will try to get the next chapter up shortly! Part of my problem is I have an NCIS:LA fic rattling around in my head distracting me! But I think it's contained for the moment.

The song is so lovely this chapter that I had to quote more than I usually do. Enjoy!

Again thank you for the reviews, they are wonderful to read and put a smile on my face. Please continue!

_It's innocence, within the maze  
__But I have chosen the wrong way  
__And I'm still getting over who I was  
__There's no sense of trust, no definition of love_

_So, shed some light on me, and hold me up in disbelief  
__And shed some light on me, and tell me something that Ill believe_

___I know now it's not who you are, it's who you know  
__And I see clearly now, which way to go  
__I remember the way I fell from above  
__And I recall, the way I was_

___So, shed some light on me, and hold me up in disbelief  
__And shed some light on me, and tell me something that Ill believe in  
__Shed Some Light, Shinedown_

Chapter Five: Shed Some Light

Realizing they were not going to make it back to the street before the other man caught up with them Tony grasped Ziva's arm, stopping her, and leaned into her ear.

"Play along," he whispered. Then louder he said: "Here looks good, babe." He gently pushed her up against the building, lips coming down hard on hers.

Quickly she recognized the situation, Tony's solution, and returned the kiss. She told herself that her enthusiastic reaction was acting to sell their cover, but even Ziva didn't quite believe it. Before she realized it, his tongue was gently probing her lips, asking for entry— which she quickly granted and as he pushed past she let out a low groan.

Suddenly his hand was under her dress and she momentarily froze before allowing him to pick her leg up and place it around his waist, his hand continuing a path toward her behind.

Finally the cowboy reached them and belted out a harsh, "Hey, lovebirds."

They purposefully ignored him, seemingly lost in each other, which was not far from the truth.

The other man clearly became annoyed and placed one hand on Tony's shoulder, not-so-gently pushing him back. "I said, hey."

Tony gave him his best doofus grin. "Yeah, well, we were busy, if you hadn't noticed." He turned back to Ziva, getting as far as another kiss before he was pushed back again, this time more violently.

The cowboy pushed his light jacket to the side, exposing a sig. "I don't care. Get out of here."

Ziva opened her eyes wide as if she had never seen a gun and tugged at Tony's shirt. "Come on, let's go."

"Yeah, okay," he responded. They quickly turned and walked hastily out of the alley.

As they hit the street, Ziva looked back; the cowboy was gone from the alley and had not followed them. "Clear," she said and headed toward the car, Tony close behind.

As Tony pulled onto the main interstate to head back to the resort, Ziva pulled out her cell and made a call.

"Abby, it's Ziva. Did you ID that pho—" Before she could finish the scientist cut her off.

"Yeah, I did. Bad guy. Really bad. Miguel Carron, lots of charges. Mostly assault, attempted murder, kidnapping variety. But he never gets convicted; the victims usually refuse to talk or disappear. This guy is bad news, really, really bad. I'm still working on the address."

Ziva swore in what Tony thought was Spanish into the phone before thanking Abby and hanging up. She quickly relayed what she had said to Tony.

"Think we got made?"

His partner shook her head. "If he recognized us we would be dead Tony, not driving back to the hotel."

"Valid point."

Ziva brought one finger to her mouth and chewed the nail while she thought. Tony had observed this habit had started only after she returned last year.

Finally she spoke. "I will call the director."

Tony nodded as she made the second call. "This is Ziva David for the Director…Yes…Thank you."

As he pulled into the resort, Vance came on the line and Ziva quickly relayed that days activities. A long pause came from the man on the other end of the phone before a heavy sigh. "Okay, why don't you take tomorrow off? With any luck he will forget all about you. In the meantime we are vetting some Mexican police if we need them; we want to make sure they aren't on the take along with Hernandez."

"Yes, Director," she said. Just as Vance was hanging up she stopped him, "Sir, any word from Gibbs?"

"No change. We will contact you if something happens."

"Thank you."

With that she closed the phone and Tony turned the car off. "Gibbs?" he asked.

"No change," she sighed.

"That's…good I guess."

She merely nodded and got out of the car.

As they reached the room Tony realized they hadn't eaten since breakfast. It was nearing 2 PM and his stomach was grumbling. "Hungy?"

"No, go ahead without me. I think I would like to sit on the balcony."

He caught her implication—alone—and nodded, walking back out the door. After the morning's incident they both needed some time apart to think. Besides, if they didn't spend some time away from each other someone would wind up dead before the two weeks were up.

Tony suspected that someone would be him.

Wandering around the resort—something they had not had a chance to do—he made note of some things they could do with their free day tomorrow before finding a grille he could sit by the beach and get a burger.

Staring out into the sand, Tony wondered how that morning had gone so wrong. Honestly, he should have known what her reaction was going to be when confronted about Somalia. And damn it, it was his business. It was his business because he cares about her and it was him (and the rest of Team Gibbs) that had pulled her out of that hell hole. She was his friend, partner, confidant; she knew when to kick his ass—literally and figuratively—and when to apply a soft touch. They had always been there for each other—and even in their darkest days his intentions were always in her best interest. He would move heaven and earth for her. He had.

And that's what scared the crap out of him. The last time he felt like this, it had ended…poorly at best. Then again, the relationship with Jeanne was never meant to be and never tenable, no matter how much he wanted it to be.

This had real potential; now there was nothing in their way. All it would take was one step forward from either of them, but he knew that deep down she was not prepared for that without at least acknowledging that she was…changed. Despite her best attempts to pretend everything was fine, Tony could see through her, he could tell she was much more subdued, less…Ziva. How much she let the others see was fleeting at best, but Tony saw what the others didn't. And that was a woman seriously tainted by her experiences, which also included cutting her father out of her life and taking an oath to a new country.

Maybe he was doing the wrong thing pushing her to talk. Maybe it was enough that he was there and willing when she was ready. Tony wasn't really sure anymore and it scared him that she was carrying all that around with her and was clearly wound very tight about it. It couldn't be healthy. All he wanted to do was help her, whatever that entailed.

_We have got one dysfunctional relationship, _he thought and finished off the burger. When he checked his watch he noticed it was near 5 pm. He threw a tip down and headed back to the room.

She watched him close the door and turned back to the balcony, slipping out into the warm sun. The hotel had provided them two cushioned lounge chairs that she took advantage of, adjusting it so she would be in the full sun before sitting down. She closed her eyes and allowed the sounds of the waves, warmth of the sun and the sounds from the people at the beach to calm her.

_Why was it never easy for them_, she wondered.

Ziva knew her partner's intentions were good, honorable; that did not make it easier however. It just made her feel guiltier for leaving him out. But she did not want to burden him. Her past was just that, hers. And right now their focus should be Reynosa, not working out whatever problems still lingered between them. But she knew that Tony would not give up so easily, it was his most and least admirable trait all in one. And she knew that one day she would give in, because despite the passage of time, the feelings only seemed to intensify. She was like a boiling pot of water but with no spout, the pressure was building and one day…she would explode. The thought of going to a stranger from psych services disturbed her more than she could describe, probably because her father had taught her such things were a weakness. Gibbs would probably have her benched and sent to psych services again anyway, McGee would panic and Abby…Abby would try to make it all better; which was not possible. That left Tony—her partner and friend, her most trusted ally.

But she was unsure what his reaction would be. Would he think less of her? Doubt her abilities? Pity her?

She did not want pity. And she did not want to be doubted.

Sighing, she tried to turn off the thoughts and emotions churning inside her and eventually fell into sleep.

_Dust. Dirt. Blood. Pain. Agony. Horror._

_She was back…or maybe she had never left. She wasn't sure at this point, it felt so real and she was so confused._

_Looking around she realized she was in a small room, smaller then before if it was possible. No window, one door. She tried the handle and was surprised to find it unlocked. Slowly opening the door she peered into the hallway—empty._

_Taking quiet steps she moved quickly, staying close to the wall. But something was off; it was too quiet. It felt like a trap, but in front of her she saw her freedom. A door. The light from outside streamed in around the worn frame. She was close. _

_Ten steps._

_Then five._

_Just as her fingers grazed the wood rough hands grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her back._

"_NO!" she screamed and fought harder against the hands. She fought with everything she had but it wasn't enough, it was never enough. "NO, NO!" she screamed again, even though they always won in the end._

_Suddenly she was thrown to the hard dirt floor, her clothes torn away from her body. Rough hands touched her skin, squeezing, pushing, and violating her again._

_One hand was especially heavy, vaguely familiar and insistent. Eventually the hands started to fade, leaving her curled up in a ball, dirty and crying. The one hand, however, continued to push, though gently._

_Now the hand had a voice, "Ziva…" _

Suddenly she woke, but not fully enough that she realized her surroundings and not before she had jumped up from the chair, wrapped one hand tightly around Tony's neck and used the other on his chest to push him back against the glass door.

"Do not touch me!" she screamed.

It was then she realized what had happened and stepped back in horror at her actions.

"Ziva…" he said quietly, concern covering his features. She looked terrified, he noted.

"I am sorry, Tony. Oh, God…I am sorry."

With that she took off back into the room, striding toward the door. Tony knew if she crossed that threshold she would just shut down again and his opportunity to get her to open up would be gone.

"Stop!" he commanded and was vaguely surprised when she actually stopped at the foot of the bed. So surprised, in fact, that he wasn't sure what to say next, so he went with simple. "Don't leave, please."

Slowly she turned back to him, tears brimming in her dark eyes. "What do you want from me, Tony?"

tbc...

I know, bwhahahaha, mean cliffhanger. Ill do my best not to let this one go to long.


	6. The Gift

I did my best to get this bad boy up quickly, but was thwarted by a cold that had me down so bad I _skipped Fringe on Thursday and went to bed._ And I make a point to watch Fringe live every week. THEN last night I was all ready to post and Comcast decided the Mid-West didnt actually _need _the internet so there went another day. So I'll keep the notes short…Thank you reviewers and readers! Onto the show…

_Hold me now, I need to feel relief  
__Like I never wanted anything  
__I suppose I'll let this go and find a reason I'll hold onto  
__I'm so ashamed of defeat_

_And I'm outta reason to believe in me  
__I'm outta trying to get by  
__I'm so afraid of the gift you give me  
__I don't belong here and I'm not well_

___I'm so ashamed of the lie I'm living  
__Right on the wrong side of this  
__I can't face myself when I wake up and look inside a mirror  
__I'm so ashamed of that thing_

_I suppose I'll let it go till I have something more to say for me  
__I'm so afraid of defeat  
__And I'm outta reason to believe in me  
__I'm outta trying to defy  
_The Gift, Seether

Chapter Six: The Gift

He took a tentative step toward her, afraid if he got too close she would bolt. "I want you to talk to me."

"Why? Why do you want to know so badly, Tony? Morbid curiosity?" her voice was angry and defensive, the tears wiped away with the palms of her hands.

"Do you really think I want to hear in explicit detail what happened to you? Of course I don't. But I also think you need to have someone you can talk to. I can be that for you. _Let me _be there for you." Large brown eyes looked at him with an expression he couldn't define.

"I would not ask you to do that, Tony."

"You don't have to. That's the point." He took another step toward her. "I know you are still hurting, Ziva."

"I am fine, Tony," she said but her resolve was slowly crumbling the face of Tony's earnestness and her own confused thoughts.

Another step and he was within arms length. "Don't give me that 'fine' crap. We both know you are far from fine." He reached out a hand and touched her arm, his voice quiet. "No one goes through what you did and comes out the other side 'fine'."

She swallowed and considered his words, cursing his astuteness when it came to her. Ziva could barely admit to herself she was not fine.

"I'm not saying you need to talk now," he continued, "just soon and to someone if not me. Please."

Fear and doubt suddenly coursed through her and her head shook. "I cannot…"

He took her face in both hands, looking deep into those eyes, the ones he could easily get so lost in and suddenly understood her hesitation. "I won't think anything less of you. No one would think anything less of you."

New tears sprung in her eyes. "Yes, you will. I am a trained assassin, a Mossad officer. Getting captured was not an option…" her voice cracked and softened. "I should have been able to fight them off. Move faster. Fight harder. Finish the mission …"

He released her face and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her smaller body into his for a tight embrace. "You did all you could Ziva."

The feeling of her gripping onto his shirt almost desperately preceded the silent sobs that racked her body. Tony held onto her, laying his cheek on the top of her head, making a quiet "shushing" sound as you would do to comfort a child.

Eventually the sobs stopped and her grip on his shirt loosened, but she stayed in his embrace, enjoying the warmth and safety it provided. His arms wrapped around her provided the one thing she had been stripped of since being captured in the desert: security. Here she could fall apart and know he would hold her up. It felt good to cry, to let some of the emotion out, especially knowing that he would have her back. In her heart she knew that Tony would not pity her, or think less of her as an agent, but her mind was resisting.

A sudden long, loud grumble from her stomach broke the silence and they both laughed lightly.

"Hungry?" Tony asked without releasing her.

Pulling away from him she looked into his eyes and smiled. "Starving. I have not eaten since breakfast."

"It's…almost 7, no wonder." As much as he didn't want to, Tony put space between them. "I found this great grille…"

She shook her head. "I think I would just like to order in."

"Okay," he said and headed over to the small desk, grabbing the room service menu and returning to her. "Old habits die hard, huh?"

"Tony…thank you."

He dropped the menu onto the bed, and pulled her down, sitting on the edge. The look on his face was deadly serious. "I get that you don't want to talk to psych services. But what happened to you, what they did to you, isn't something you can just shut away and forget about. Trust me, I know, I try not to think about what happened in Africa. I try not to picture you at the mercy of a psychopath and his merry band of nut jobs, but I do." He looked down at their still joined hands. "I started seeing a therapist."

"Why?" she asked quietly, impressed that Tony would reveal something like that to her.

"Because _I _couldn't deal with it. The visual of you…and the fact we didn't look for you sooner. I needed to let it out before it ate me from the inside out. And I didn't experience it; I've just got my very vivid imagination to work with. So what I am telling you is: I felt better after talking about it." He reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "And I always have your back, no matter what you do."

Lips pressed into a firm line she looked at him, eyes brimming once again. "I know."

"Good then." With that he picked up the menu and handed it to her. "Let's order dinner."

"You just ate!"

"I'm a growing boy."

She gave his midsection a quick glance and smirked. "Clearly."

Before he could protest she opened the menu, quickly choosing something and handing the plastic back to him, announcing she was going to shower while they waited the nearly 45 minutes for room service.

Entering the bathroom, she took a long look at her face in the mirror. On the outside she looked the same as always, but she knew on the inside she was drastically different, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. Sighing she stepped into the warm water; Tony was right, she knew that. And their conversation gave her the encouragement she needed to want to talk about it, to want to get it out, unburden herself with someone she trusted more than anyone in the world.

* * *

By the time she redressed in cotton shorts and a tank top, dinner had arrived and Tony was already seated on the couch, digging into his pasta.

"Was I in there that long?" she asked.

"Nope, they were just really fast," he stated and shoved a forkful of alfredo into his mouth. The TV had been turned onto ESPN, which seemed intent on having a LeBron James report every other topic.

Rolling her eyes, she sank into the couch next to him with her legs tucked neatly under her and pulled her plate to her—she had also ordered pasta, though a pesto sauce—and within 10 minutes the entire plate was gone. As she placed her empty plate next to his on the table and sat back, Tony pulled up the guide for the resort satellite.

"What do you want to do? We've got movies, we've got resort nightly entertainment, we've got…three pools. Your wish is my command."

It amazed her how quickly he reverted back to "normal" Tony. It was a comfort to her that he didn't dwell on their previous conversation or allow it to influence the rest of the evening, instead allowing her to choose the pace.

Taking a look outside Ziva decided quickly that she was in no mood to deal with other people right now. "I think I would rather stay in."

"Movie it is. Lets see…" Within minutes Tony had quickly eliminated half the movies available to them, proclaiming most as 'crap'. "Ok, here's what we got: the updated Star Trek, old school Princess Bride or…ooooh, that's a goodie, Executive Decision."

"Star Trek," she responded quickly, which earned her a look from Tony.

"Never pictured you as a Trekkie, Agent David."

She smiled at the use of "Agent" instead of "Officer". "Just start the movie."

Within minutes of the start of the movie she had moved closer to him on the couch, her head in the crook of his arm, which was lying across her side, his fingers just brushing the top of her shorts.

As the end of the movie rolled by, the sun was past the horizon and neither of them had turned on a lamp in the room, the only light coming from the TV screen. Still curled against Tony's side, the room dark, she felt comfortable. Empowered. Ready.

"You know, a photographic memory is not all it is cracked up to be," she started quietly and the only indication she had he heard her was the TV volume muted. "I must…lock away the memories because if I do not then I can recall every detail. The smells, the sounds, the taste of blood in my mouth, the feeling of their hands…" She paused. "He started with just the beatings, trying to get information from me. I…withstood his attempts."

The arm that had been draped along her side squeezed, pulling her closer but he said nothing.

"The drugs, they also did not work. We are…trained to resist the effects. It took close to a month of torture before Saleem realized that he would not get the information he desired from me. I would not betray NCIS or Mossad." Tears welled in her eyes as the memories assaulted her and she spoke again, her voice breaking. "It was after that he allowed some of the senior men to…use me for their own enjoyment. That was the only reason I was kept alive, to be treated like a commodity and an outlet for their anger when objectives were not met. Or as a prize when they were."

"Ziva…" he whispered into her hair.

"Every time they raped or beat me I silently wished for death. Saleem would take pleasure in…" She shook her head as if trying to remove the memory.

"You don't have to…" he started to say but she cut him off knowing if she stopped she would be unable to start again.

"He would let me think I was going to die, push me to the edge…and then bring me back." Her hand absently went to her neck, the feeling of his rough, dirty hands strangling her still as real as they were a year ago. A warm, comforting hand started to rub her back slowly and she touched the flag she now wore as if it was a ward that would keep the horrors away.

He nuzzled her hair and whispered, "You are the strongest person I know."

The feeling of his warm breath tickling her temple erased the feeling of her torturer. "When he stabbed me I thought for sure that was it, I would bleed to death on the dirt floor of my cell. I welcomed it, Tony. I was not scared of dying; I was thrilled I would finally escape him. How is that strong?"

"I don't think many people in that position would have made it that far and not lost their minds. You thought that was your only escape. And at the time, it was. I don't hold it against you."

She lifted her head and looked at him. "Then you were there, sitting in front of me. I thought I was seeing things. Or that I actually had died and was now in Hell. But no…you had travelled thousands of miles into the desert, into unknown territory in the search of a madman. For revenge."

A small smirk crossed his face. "You were an added bonus."

She ignored his lightheartedness. "After the way we parted, after I shoved a gun into your chest and accused you of…"

"I doesn't matter, the whys. What matters is you are here."

"I was not worthy of your actions."

"Yes. You were." His tone was final. "Despite what you still think, you did not deserve…what they did to you. No one does."

Now she placed her hands on either side of his face. "Tony, thank you. For then…and now."

Slowly she leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, she wanted—needed—to feel alive again. No…normal. She wanted to feel normal, and not have her time in Africa taint her feelings and actions. She wanted to have a man touch her with desire and not flinch or flashback. Ziva knew Tony could do all these things for her, because it came down to trust. The last man she allowed to touch her had walked away after she had nearly broken his wrist. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, he was attractive and they had hit it off at the bar, but he was a stranger and had not earned her trust, so when he groped her on the way out she…reacted. She had been as surprised as he when she lashed out. Needless to say, she went home alone that night; and had not attempted anything like it again.

But this was Tony. Trust didn't get any deeper between two people then it did with them.

So when he returned her kiss and slid a hand down to cup her ass, she did not flinch and did not flash back. Instead a familiar, warm feeling rushed through her.

It didn't take long for the single kiss to escalate into lengthy kisses broken up by short breaks for panting breaths.

As she moved her body to straddle him, Tony became painfully aware what having his beautiful, lithe partner on his lap was doing to him. Warms lips on his neck sent a jolt through his body and he knew they would have to stop now or risk not stopping and Tony wasn't willing to go there, not tonight. Their emotions were too raw and at the surface.

Reluctantly he pulled away from her, stilling her motions. "Ziva, stop."

She let out a noise of disappointment but leaned back.

"I…I don't think right now is a good idea. Not after…"

He was right, and she knew it, so she placed her forehead on his and took several long breaths to calm herself.

Silently she stood and held out a hand—which he took—and led him to the bed. Tonight would have been poor timing at best or an emotional disaster at worst.

Despite her reservations about opening up to him, Tony had been right. Ziva felt as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She felt freer, more in control then she had in over a year. The memories were no longer oppressive.

As she drifted into sleep Ziva felt a light kiss being dropped onto her head, she knew Tony was right. Having sex tonight would have been an emotional response to pouring out her heart, but tomorrow was a new day. And a day they had off.

She would not let the opportunity pass her by.

Tbc…..


	7. Break My Fall

I apologize greatly for the INSANELY long time before posts, the holidays really screwed my writing up, more than I expected. So I beg your forgiveness and promise to have the next chapter up not later than Sunday night, sound fair?

THANK YOU for the reviews and alerts. I cannot say that enough, reviews keep me motivated, please keep them coming.

Good, on with the show then…

_I am losing you again  
Let me out and let me in  
'cause you're not alone here  
Not at all  
Let me belong here  
Break my fall__  
Break My Fall, Breaking Benjamin_

Shelter me from this again  
Dedicated to the end  
Help me break my conscience in  
To free us from our innocence

Chapter Seven – Break My Fall

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" Tony asked as he got up, gathering clothes for the shower.

"I think I would like to go to the beach, have a drink, read a book."

He gave her a quizzical look. "You brought a book? To a stakeout?"

"Yes. You did not?"

"Well, no."

She shrugged and walked into the bathroom in front of him. "Then I guess you can google the girls."

"Ogle!" he called through the closed door and was met with a light laugh and "I know".

As Tony showered, Ziva debated which bathing suit to wear. Originally she had packed just a one piece that covered what she didn't want seen, but at the last second she had thrown in a turquoise and royal blue patterned string bikini she had purchased before Michael died. Making a quick decision she slipped on the bikini and was happy to find it fit perfectly and that the scars were not as obvious as she anticipated. And honestly, she didn't care if they were. This is who she was, scars and all. As the water turned off in the shower she put on a short cover and gathered her things, sitting on the couch to get a head start on reading.

Several minutes later Tony appeared in a pair of particularly obnoxious shade of orange Hawaiian style swim trunks and a white t-shirt.

She spared him a glance and went back to the book. "That is what you are wearing?"

He looked down and grinned. "You bet. You won't lose me on the beach."

"Even if I wanted to…" she muttered and got up, moving to stand right in front of him, one hand on his chest. "I do not want to hear how right you were, but I thought you should know that I do feel better after our…chat last night."

Now a serious expression crossed his face. "I'm glad. You know, that's not something I would joke about."

She nodded before changing the subject. "Ready?"

"You bet! Warm sun, cool drinks, sand, hot chicks in bikinis…" A firm slap to the back of his head stopped him. "Ow! You know you were included in the hot chicks' part."

All he received was an eye roll as she headed out the door.

It didn't take long for them to find two unoccupied beach chairs with an umbrella over them and settle in. Tony quickly shed his shirt and looked at her; she appeared nervous. For the life of him Tony could not figure out why, until she sucked in a deep breath and pulled the cover over her head, she had on one of the most revealing bikinis Tony had ever seen.

Words escaped him; all he could do was stare at her. She looked beautiful…gorgeous, easily the hottest thing on the beach. Though he understood her hesitation, the scars that marked her abdomen and back were bare for all to see, quite a step forward for his reserved partner. Her skin had regained the healthy tan she had before Somalia and she had put on a solid fifteen pounds since he had picked her up for that last 100 yards to the waiting helicopter; he remembered how light she felt in his arms and how he had been able to feel her ribs through the loose t-shirt she wore.

"You are taunting me," he said without taking his eyes off the curve of her hips.

"I am not taunting you," she responded and lay down on the chair, pulling her loose hair to one side.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "She says while wearing one of the tiniest bikinis this side of Brazil…"

She gave him a wicked look. "I could put the cover back on if it offends you so much."

His hands waved in defeat. "No, nope. This is fine. But I think I'll just google you all day."

A shrug came from her as she opened the book and started reading as if unaffected by his words. Behind the paperback she was fighting a smile.

Despite his comment, Tony did not spend the day ogling his partner; instead he got immense satisfaction out of watching all the _other _men stare at her as they walked by. It was one hell of an ego boost knowing she would be sleeping in his bed, and every guy that walked by knew it.

After an hour of intensely amusing people watching—including a couple that were clearly fighting, in extremely loud tones—Tony decided that he could sit still no longer so he snuck a glance at his partner. She was still deeply into her book. Enough was enough.

Reaching over, he snagged the book out of her hand and placed it on the table, looking at her. "Swim?"

She regarded him evenly. "Sounds good."

Getting up, he grabbed her hand and pulled her gently from the lounge chair, guiding her out to the surf.

Placing one foot into the warm water of the gulf, Ziva let out a long sigh and closed her eyes. She loved the beach. Despite growing up in the desert, there was something about the sound of the waves and the water lapping at her skin that she found comforting.

Opening her eyes she looked at her companion, who had been watching her with fascination. She gave him a small smile and started into the water, pulling him along with her.

A loud exclamation of "Ah!" came from behind her just as the water reached her hips.

"Problem, Tony?"

"Water's a little colder than I expected."

She turned to him—her hand still in his—and stopped short so he lightly bumped her. Every nerve ending she had tingled at the contact.

"Would you like me to…warm you up?" she asked seductively and glanced down at his swimsuit.

Tony stared at her for a moment. Had she seriously said that? "No, no I'm good."

"Dress yourself."

"Suit yourself."

She merely gave him a look and kept walking until the water was lapping just at her belly button and looked down; the clear water allowed her to see all the way down to the ocean floor. As he joined her, a school of small blue fish passed close to her left leg; she laughed lightly as one skimmed her leg.

He looked down and saw the cause of her laughter slip away. "Don't see that in D.C."

"Indeed not," she said and her eyes sparkled.

For a moment, silence covered them. He took another step toward her, placing his hands at her waist under the water. Then he gave her a devious smile.

Ziva saw it coming a split second before it happened but was unable to stop him. In an instant Tony had pulled her up and flung her backwards, sending her splashing into the water with a loud decidedly un-Ziva-like squeal.

Retribution was expected, and Tony had taken that into consideration before sending her sailing through the air, but the temptation was too great. Once she broke the surface of the water with an indescribable expression on her face he debated if maybe it wasn't such a good idea.

Then he noticed the water dripping down her body, following the curve of her collarbone, down between her barely covered breasts, sliding slowly down her abdomen, dipping into her bellybutton, before continuing down to the top of the bikini bottoms. Tony was so distracted staring at those rivulets of water and debating the punishment she would met out if he let his tongue follow those same trails that he didn't notice that she had approached him with a distinctly predatory look on her face.

A brief expression of alarm crossed Tony's face once he looked up and raised his hands, attempting to stop her advancement. "I…you…it was a joke…" he ended lamely as she finally moved into his space.

She licked her lips and leaned into him. "You will pay for that…later." Her voice was not angry as expected…but seductive. It confused and aroused him at the same time and he decided to press his luck reaching out one hand and resting it on her hip, sliding his thumb back and forth under the string that tied her suit together.

A warm tingle spread up her spine at the contact and suddenly later was looking very promising. The hand that had been firmly on her left hip lifted and she was disappointed at the lack of contact. Until the same hand grasped at the end of one of the strings of her suit, slowly pulling the material so the knot loosened as the waves lapped just above, so his actions were hidden from anyone that might look their way. And suddenly that warm tingle was everywhere, especially between her legs.

Continuing to pull he leaned down, placing his lips close to hers. "Did you bring a nice dress?"

Struggling to focus on his words instead of his actions she responded with a strained, "Yes".

Suddenly his hand stilled, just at the point where one more tug would have released the knot. "Good, you'll need it for tonight. I'm taking you out to dinner."

"Dinner…" she repeated, confused.

He nodded and let go of her suit, before diving under the water himself, leaving her standing in the water, aroused and confused. He seemed to have that effect on her.

After spending another hour in the water they had decided to call it an afternoon and head back to the room to get ready for dinner. Both had mentally moved "dinner" to "date," however.

Ziva had let Tony have the shower first, knowing he would be much faster, and true to his word he emerged 15 minutes later, white towel slung low on his hips. It had taken a significant amount of restraint for her to not walk up to him, pull the towel off and have her way with him. Instead she walked by and entered the bathroom herself, dress in hand.

Within 40 minutes she had showered, put on makeup and tamed her hair into large curls that cascaded down her back. Looking at the dress hanging on the back of the door, she wondered if it wasn't a bit too…risqué for dinner. The silky burgundy fabric was a simple sheath dress that came right up to her collarbone where large coins surrounded her neck, holding up the material. It was sleeveless and in the back a large keyhole formed in the material from the snap at the nape of her neck to right below her shoulder blades. In the front was an equally sized keyhole, from her neck to mid-breastbone, it had taken several minutes of positioning to get the material to cover her breasts appropriately. Then there was the length, which caused her the most consternation; it was…really short. Enough that sitting might prove challenging. Deciding the risk was worth it, she put the dress and matching silver high heels on and stepped out of the bathroom into the short hall with just barely a glance in the bathroom mirror.

As he adjusted his tie for what seemed like the eightieth time, the bathroom door opened and his partner stepped out in the most stunning dress he had ever seen on a woman. It hugged every curve and, oh god her legs. The shortness of the dress combined with the high heels made her tan legs go on forever.

Swallowing hard first he spoke. "You look…stunning."

She smiled and approached him, adjusting his tie one last time. He looked pretty good himself in grey Armani pants and a slate blue dress shirt with matching tie. "Thank you."

He waved his hand toward the door. "Ready?"

Nodding she headed for the door as Tony took in the swing in her hips and ass.

It was certainly going to be an interesting evening.

Tbc….


	8. Addicted

Yeah, I know…I suck. But I beg your forgiveness and provide this M rated chapter in return.

I repeat M RATED. You can safely skip this chapter and not really miss anything you couldn't figure out on your own.

* * *

_I'm so addicted to_  
_All the things you do_  
_When you're going down on me_  
_In between the sheets_

_All the sounds you make_  
_With every breath you take_  
_It's unlike anything_  
_When you're loving me_  
Addicted, Saving Abel

CHAPTER EIGHT - Addicted

She was surprised when they got to the upscale steakhouse and found a reservation under Tony's name. They were seated quickly by the windows in a quiet booth with high back seats and a small lamp that created a warm yellow glow over the table. Thankfully Ziva's dress had cooperated and she had been able to sit and slide next to the window without much fuss. Of course, the actual fuss started the second they walked into the restaurant, at which point practically every male turned their heads to get a better look at the exotic beauty. Tony had just given them all a knowing look.

"When did you get a reservation?" she asked after asking the waiter for a red wine.

He looked at her over the menu. "I'll never tell my secrets…"

A noise of disbelief came from her as she looked back to her menu. It didn't take long for her to decide on her meal and she put the menu down, surprised to see Tony had also done the same. Their waiter returned quickly with drinks and disappeared with their orders.

Staring out into the moonlit sky, Ziva commented, "It certainly is beautiful here."

"Have I mentioned how gorgeous you look in that dress?"

She looked at him and smirked. "I believe you used 'unbelievably hot' on the way here."

"Well, I meant it."

"Thank you."

For several moments they stared at each other, Tony expected everything to be a bit awkward, but it wasn't; they were too comfortable around each other for that.

"Every guy in this restaurant checked you out on the way to the table," he finally whispered conspiratorially.

A light laugh came from her and he smiled. That was twice today he had heard her laugh. Hopefully he could get her to do it more often; he enjoyed the sound.

She lifted her wine glass and tilted it to him; quickly he raised his beer and waited. "To friends and lovers," she finally said and if Tony had been drinking, it would have been all over the table. Because it wasn't entirely the words, but the way she said them, full of longing and desire.

As his mouth opened to respond the waiter returned with their meals. He closed it as the delicious smelling food was placed in front of him. Another light laugh came from her as he eyed the steak and potato.

"That is all you think about is it not? Food?"

Now it was his turn to give her a devious look and eye her like the steak. "Not all I think about."

Again she smiled and they dug into their food. It wasn't long before the food and a second round of drinks had been consumed. A third round was declined; they did have to go back to work tomorrow.

"So," he finally asked. "How long do you suppose we will be down here?"

"I do not know. Once Vance has identified trustworthy Mexican authorities I imagine we will be relieved."

Leaning back, he considered that. "Is it bad if I don't want to go back?"

"You enjoy stakeouts in the Mexican heat for hours?"

"I enjoy the company."

At that she just smiled at him. "We should get the bill."

Fifteen minutes later they were closing the room door behind them. Turning toward his partner, Tony paused a moment, staring at her with an unsure expression.

"Tony?" she finally asked while taking a step toward him, her fingers roaming down the front of his shirt slowly. As she approached his belt and started tugging on it he stilled her hand with his.

"Are you sure about this Ziva? I mean…really sure? Because if we do this then everything changes."

A ghost of a smile played against her features and she slid her hand back up to cup his face. "What changes Tony? I think we can both agree that what we have now is more than most people have in a lifetime. I could not trust you more. I would still risk my life for you. I will still have your back every single day." Now she placed one hand on his chest. "The only thing that changes is now I can confirm all those claims you make about your…prowess."

"They aren't just claims, they are the truth."

"Hmmmm…" she practically purred the sound. "Prove it."

As she stepped back Tony gave her a distressed expression—until her hand disappeared under her hair momentarily before slipping down to the zipper located at her side, slowly pulling it down. With one hand she gently tugged the material at her neck and the entire dress fell to the floor in a whoosh of fabric, revealing his partner to be naked except for an extremely small black thong.

Closing the distance between them he snaked one hand to the back of her neck, the other resting on her hip and pulled her into him, crushing his lips onto hers with fervor.

The hand on her hip slid around to her lower back, pulling her even closer. As his lips trailed down her neck, she tilted her head back and moaned his name.

"Tony…you are wearing too many clothes."

Pulling away, he quickly unbuttoned his shirt, stepping toward her as she moved backwards toward the bed, stopping when the backs of her knees hit the mattress.

"This all feels vaguely familiar…" he said with a broad grin.

"Well, except this time we are _not _pretending," she said with an equally broad smile.

Carefully he pushed her back on the mattress and removed his slacks before following her down, pressing kisses and nibbling along her collarbone and shoulders.

"Tony," she practically whined.

"Yes, love," he muttered into the skin above her breasts.

"I need you…"

Suddenly he paused—hovering above her—and looked at her stricken.

"What?" she asked and placed a kisses on his jaw.

"I didn't…" he paused and stilled her movements, unsure how to broach the subject. "I didn't come prepared for…this."

A light laugh came from her as she pressed her head into his chest. "I would have been more concerned if you had been."

"That doesn't solve the prob…" he started but a finger on his lips stopped him.

"Unless there is something you need to tell me about, Tony, protection is…unnecessary." Now it was her turn to pause. "I am unable to get pregnant and have been…thoroughly tested."

A confused expression crossed his face but before he could question her, her hand snaked down and gently stroked him. "Later," she whispered and he nodded before resuming his exploration of her breasts.

It wasn't long before she was arching her pelvis toward him as his tongue licked and sucked at her nipple, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her center.

"Tony, now…" she panted at him and removed the small thong she wore before swiftly divesting him of his boxers.

Looking down, Tony locked eyes with her as she wrapped her long legs around his hips and helped guide him into her. As he pressed into her, Ziva closed her eyes as pleasure flooded her senses and gently pulled her lower lip between her teeth.

A long, low moan came from her as he started to move slowly at first before picking up the tempo.

"Faster…" she said and threw her head back, exposing her neck to him.

Tony obliged and leaned into her, licking the skin just below her ear as her legs tightened around him and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down onto her.

"Ohhhhh…_cara_…" she hissed as the change in angle clearly hit her in the right spot.

Ziva could feel the tension coiling up in her lower back and she arched up to him as best she could, desperate for release. "Tony…" she said in a needy, frantic tone. Only her partner could cause her to practically beg in bed.

"Ziva," he whispered into her ear and pressed harder into her. "You are beautiful…come for me…"

That was all she needed and her hands released his shoulders, fingers digging into the bed sheets as she came almost violently, wave after wave crashing over her. "Tony!" she cried out as the last rush moved through her and she felt him come shortly after.

As he rolled off, curling next to her sweaty body she let out a whoosh of breath.

"So," he asked as he nipped her shoulder. "Did I live up to expectation?"

She turned onto her side to face him, her fingers lighting up his side. "Oh, yes."

"Good."

Nuzzling her face into his neck she started to drift into a satiated sleep as he pulled the covers over their cooling bodies.

It was three hours later when he suddenly woke and realized they had left several lights on the room, and while it didn't bother him before, now that it had been brought to his attention, the extra light annoyed him. Muttering, he pulled away from her warm body and quickly turned off the offending lights before returning to her.

"Bothering you, wasn't it?" she asked sleepily.

"Yep," he said and slid into the bed next to her, spooning her body. Which, in retrospect, wasn't such a good idea because as her gloriously naked behind shimmied into him, Tony reacted, becoming half hard.

"Mmmmm…" she hummed and pressed harder into him.

For a second his mind went blank, focused on the sensations she was causing, but then he remembered a promise she made.

"It's later," he mentioned and kissed the spot where her neck and shoulder met. "I think I can figure out one part on my own, but how do you know you can't get pregnant?"

Ziva rolled over with a small smile on her face, sometimes his native amazed her. Or maybe he suspected the why, but couldn't bring himself to actually believe it. "In Mossad, it is not…optimal to become pregnant. Especially when you are one of the top agents."

Now he just looked confused.

"When I was twenty-two I had my tubes tied, Tony. It was four months before Tali…" she paused to gather herself. "At the time it was the right decision, I told my father I would get it done and commit my life to Mossad if he promised me they would allow Tali to serve her required time then escape the family business."

"Oh," he said somewhat sadly. Heartbroken because of how different her life had been from his. At twenty two he was worried about the next co-ed he would get in bed, while she was making a life altering decision and losing her sister.

"It is fine Tony, really. I did not make the decision lightly. Besides, I am not exactly mother material." Her tone was final.

"You can't be sure..."

"I can." She mumbled into his chest as she slid down the bed, playfully tickling him on the way down.

Tbc…


End file.
